photo by: We found the diary in the bottom drawer of her old desk.The drawer that was always locked.Not with a key — with silence. After the funeral, the house felt larger,hollow in places where her voice

The first time I realized I had to live for myself, not for others, wasn’t a loud or dramatic moment. It was quiet, almost uncomfortable. I was doing everything I was supposed to do—meeting expectations,

No te olvides de los acentos, eses y el vocabulario potente. Mi verdad solo requiere espacios en papel y lápiz donde trote mi corazón. Entiendo… entonces, ponle riendas de razón para no andar a pelo, sostener

Addicted I’m addicted to losing, to getting my hopes up, to not seeing the red flags. I love living in a world of fantasy, borrowing scenes from my favorite books, of love and desire that will never happen.

Story in the topic "Nocturnal Freewriting" in the non-live roleplay group Nocturnal Cathedral: t.me/nocturnalcathedral Tonight's Subject: When the Night Embraces Me Like a Gentle Hand. I see